


Sunkissed (Spook)

by Ebhenah



Series: Fictober 2018 [16]
Category: Original Work, Spook&WraithOC
Genre: Gen, Spook(OC)&Wraith(OC)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 02:37:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16714969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebhenah/pseuds/Ebhenah
Summary: Fictober 18 Day 16Prompt: "This is gonna be so much fun!"Original fiction, Original characters (a continuation of my Fictober Day 7 story: Uncharted, Day 8 story : Anchor and Day 13 story: Soulmates. This one featuring Spook and a new OC: Grift)Rating: T Mentions of war, death, gun violence





	Sunkissed (Spook)

So, there were lots of things that sucked about being stranded in a new timeline, almost a decade before your own birth and staring down the early days of a war that you really hoped turned out differently this time around than your own history would suggest. Little things like being out of touch with pop culture, or not being able to find your favorite tool because it hasn't been created yet, or craving a food no one knows how to make. Weird things like realizing the new baby that everyone is cooing over is your favorite babysitter from when you were six, or seeing vehicles you consider 'classics' being billed as the cutting edge of technology, or fixing your aunt her favorite drink only to have her choke on it, because it was the first time she'd ever tasted alcohol. Oops.

There were big things, too. So few of the people she was meeting now were alive in her timeline, even though they were young and healthy. Her history knowledge told a story of a world that was wholly unprepared for the might of the invaders that came seemingly out of nowhere, attacked using technology they couldn't even grasp, and operated under a moral view that was unfathomable to humans. Losses had been staggering, to say the least. The devastation unthinkable for anyone who hadn't witnessed it for themselves. That's what she and her family had been sent back to try to avoid. They'd done everything they were supposed to- and a bit more… but she was never supposed to stick around to see how those changes played out.

In her childhood, the Earth had been teeming with alien life from across multiple galaxies, humans making up only a small portion of the population. The skies had been grey and dull, air quality poor except in areas where massive purification complexes filtered dust and other fallout from the air and water. It had been HOT, the destruction of hundreds of cities within the span of a few months too much for the planet to correct on its own and throwing 'greenhouse effect' into being almost overnight. Most of the surface was water, the majority of the rest was desert, and massive sandstorms raged outside of cities built under the protection of huge forcefields or physical domes- much of the population living underground or in orbit. Now, she was one of less than a thousand individuals with even partial alien heritage, and the Earth was green and lush and thriving. No air quality alerts, no radiation alarms, no food shortages. She was now getting to see the Earth that her family loved and spoke about. The Earth that so many people had died trying to protect.

Sometimes, the weight of that gift got to her. People already thought she was the strange alien traveller, stranger even than the other aliens she had brought with her. It didn't help that it had been decided it was best not to mention the whole 'time travel' thing and instead a cover story of being a science experiment that had been force-grown on a world that no longer exists and growing up in the resistance had been built for her. (Actually, it wasn't even all that far off from the truth). She was seen as someone not to be trusted, despite being vouched for by the planets most celebrated heroes. Despite the knowledge she had offered them. That was alright. She was from a much more paranoid world than this one, so the mistrust didn't really bother her much.

But the odd looks when she would get overwhelmed by the little things she'd only ever heard about were frustrating. She wanted to scream and yell at them to appreciate it all, because it could still be lost. Her timeline might not be that different from this one, even with all the work they'd put into changing it.

Seeing a butterfly was a MIRACLE. Swimming in the ocean was a GIFT. Being able to stand, on the Earth's surface, and feel the sun kiss your skin, no need for breathing apparatus, no need for thick suits to protect the skin from being sanded off by the grit in the air, no need for heavy goggles that protected the eyes from pollution and radiation? Just your feet, on the ground; soft sunshine warming you; clean, salty spray from the nearby beach tickling your flesh; sweet smelling flowers wafting on the breeze? That was something out of a fairy story… and she was going to make the most of it every chance she got, dammit. And if people looked askance at her for it, well, they could stuff it.

"So," came an awkward voice from somewhere behind her. "When they said you were getting some sun down by the water… I wasn't really expecting to find you naked…"

She turned toward the newcomer, "you squeamish about nudity, Grift?" He was, by her math, maybe a year her senior at this point. Elite pilot, fast track for military leadership- a rising star by all accounts. In her memory, he was one of the highest ranking members of a military force that was getting younger and younger by the year as losses continued to mount. But he'd been on the front lines of the fighting since the very first assault, and not only had he survived, each and every one of his squadrons held some of the highest survival rates on the books. Smart. Talented. Responsible. Respected… and an arrogant asshole who CONSISTENTLY butted heads with her father and with the aliens that held the power to make tactical decisions. Not a particularly well-liked guy among her loved ones when she was growing up.

She could see all those traits in him now, too, for all that he was younger, brasher, less worldly, more innocent. Green. He was also a xenophobe, which had surprised her, because the man she'd known 'back home' was not. Of course, by the time she'd been born, he'd had almost a decade of fighting side by side with aliens to rid him of any initial distrust.

"That's not my name," he said, as he always did when she called him that. She was starting to wonder how long it would take him to clue in that the main reason she did it was BECAUSE it got to him. It seemed pretty obvious to her. He didn't even know yet how much of an insult it actually was. Man, she could not WAIT until the Byx/Sieb made contact with the humans and he found out what 'grift' actually MEANT! "Not squeamish about it, no. Just wasn't expecting to see you… without clothes in public at high noon. You immune to skin cancer or something?"

She tipped her face up to the light, loving the way the sun tickled her markings. "I don't actually know," she answered, shrugging, "I'm not really used to worrying about things that might kill me in a few decades. Usually, I can barely keep up with the things that might kill me this week."

"Yeah, that makes a certain amount of sense," he chuckled. "You don't mind people staring?"

"I'm purple, Grift. I'm purple with color-changing rosettes, pointy ears and sometimes my eyes glow… and I blush blue. I'm used to people staring." She bent down to pull a pair of shorts and a tank top out of her bag, clearly her alone time was being cut short. "What's going on?"

"Word from on high," he joked, referring to the tactical ships that were in orbit above them. "I'm supposed to test your firearm conflict competency. The new allies are pushing for you to get a security clearance with Earth's military… even though you aren't military."

"How are they justifying that?" she asked, slipping into the shorts, curious to see what loopholes the younger versions of her family were coming up with.

"Diplomat status," he said dryly.

She stopped short, waistband sitting at mid-thigh, and gaped at him. "DIPLOMAT?!" she laughed, "me? That's rich. I suck with diplomacy."

"Looks like we are in agreement on that front," he answered.

She glared, tugging the shorts into place and getting to work on the button fly, "listen up, pretty boy- you are no better with people than I am, and you are WELL aware of that."

"Pretty boy?" one of his eyebrows quirked, he seemed surprised that she'd said that.

"What? You have symmetrical features, good hair, are in good shape, high cheekbones, straight nose, full lips, delicate features… objectively, you are pretty- which you KNOW and have no qualms about exploiting. It wasn't a compliment. I'm not swooning."

"You don't strike me as the type to swoon," he said on a short bark of laughter.

"You don't know me," she reminded him, pulling on the tank top as she walked toward him, "I'm a notorious swooner. You're just not my type."

"Not a fan of pretty?" he teased.

"Big fan of pretty," she replied, her eyes glowing a soft, warm yellow, "all kinds of pretty. Pretty hair, pretty eyes, pretty legs, pretty wings- annnd there you go. That face. The one you made when I said wings. That's why you aren't my type. It's not about how you look, Grift. There's something ugly in you. You're pretty like Vokarin Crystal is pretty. Lovely to look at, but get too close, and it poisons you. I'm not human, and I can't change that. So, I stay away from anyone who thinks that makes me some kind of monster. You can smile and charm, but I see that ugliness in you- just as easily as I see your pretty hair and perfect bone structure. It doesn't blind me to the fact that you are VERY good at your job, though… so, how do we assess my firearm conflict competency?"

"There is a specific set of training scenarios you need to pass," he answered, falling into step beside her as they walked back to the building, "all done with non-lethal munitions."

She turned to him, a predatory smile stretching her lips, and she could feel her ears flatten back in anticipation of something that stirred her hunting instincts, "shoot'em'up sims? I love shoot'em'up sims!"

"Don't get cocky," he warned her, voice stern. "I'm the one you are facing off against, and I have HIGH standards."

"Shoot'em'up sims against YOU?" she could feel her rosettes cycle through a few different colors in response to her shifting mood, "ohhhhh man! This is gonna be so much fun!"


End file.
